Chapter 3
PENNY
Penny fiddled with her pen, then brought the end to her mouth and nibbled on it as she looked out the window. It didn’t matter how often she stole moments away from work to search for him.
Royce hadn’t shown.
It had been a couple of weeks, and there had been no sign of him.
At first, Penny had been disappointed and confused when she didn’t hear from him in the first few days. She’d believed he would follow through with his promise.
One day to make her fall in love.
You get to pick the pace he’d said.
She scoffed. As if. He was probably just blowing smoke.
Now, she wasn’t disappointed or confused.
Nope. She was embarrassed.
Embarrassed that she’d let him get into her head.
Embarrassed that she’d let herself believe he’d actually call.
“Stupid, Penny. You’re a logical, reasonable therapist. You should know better than this.”
She tore the pen from her lips and tossed it into the mug on her desk. The man might as well have been a ghost. If she hadn’t seen him before that night and she hadn’t seen him since, she could have convinced herself he was just some tourist passing through town. Or that it was just a dream.
Penny pushed aside the frustration. There was no point in dwelling on Royce. He’d made an impression, but in the end, maybe he’d been like all the other men who weren’t serious. A flirt. A guy who liked the spark of the chase but not the effort that came after.
Was it any wonder she was so jaded?
And yet it didn’t stop her from searching for that happiness she wanted so badly.
Maybe she was a lost cause.
Penny rifled through her paperwork, too distracted to be productive. With each passing day, she’d allowed herself to be consumed by questions about him. No matter how often she chastised herself, she couldn’t stop. She didn’t even know who she’d ask if she wanted to inquire after him.
She gathered the files she needed to annotate and stuffed them into her messenger bag. She needed out of her office. Fresh air would help her get back on track. Since there were hardly any appointments scheduled for today due to several cancellations, she’d sent her secretary home early.
All she had to do now was lock up and figure out how to get Royce out from under her skin.
Penny exited the building and turned to lock up when she heard a familiar voice.
“Hey, Pen. Haven’t seen you around lately.”
She glanced up and smiled at Emerson. He’d practically been raised alongside her cousins. They’d known each other for at least a decade. Whenever her father had brought her to Copper Creek as a child, she’d noticed him, but she’d spent more time with her cousins.
“Hey, Emerson. Yeah, I’ve been busy.”
It was a lie.
Ever since her father passed, she’d retreated from family events. Being at the farm reminded her too much of her dad. And while she adored her cousins, she didn’t quite feel like she fit in. They’d do anything for her, just as she’d do the same for them.
They were simply different breeds.
Guilt sank into her bones. If anything, losing her father should have made her want to spend more time with family. There was no telling how much time she had left with any of them. Life was fragile.
Wasn’t that what her list was about?
“Pen?”
She startled, realizing her key was still in the door and she’d gotten lost in her thoughts again.
What was wrong with her? Sheesh.
Penny turned to Emerson again. “Sorry. I haven’t been myself lately.”
Understanding flooded his expression. Emerson had lost his parents in an accident when he was younger.
He’d grown up in the foster system until he ran away and found himself on her cousin’s farm.
It might not have been legal, but Penny’s aunt had taken him in and hadn’t reported him.
He wasn’t quite an adult, but Aunt Kate hadn’t wanted him put back into the system.
Aunt Kate had been a saint right up until she’d passed away from cancer. She’d been as much a parent to Emerson as she had to the rest of Penny’s cousins.
If anyone understood what Penny was going through, it was him.
“Sorry,” she apologized again. “What were you saying?”
He shuffled his feet and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You hungry? I thought maybe you’d like to join me for lunch.”
The sound of a motorcycle caught her attention, and she lifted her head to see one round the corner down the street. It was too far to tell who was driving.
Her heart gave one foolish little kick anyway.
Was that him?
Okay. She’d finally lost it.
Emerson cleared his throat, and she glanced at him, sure color was bleeding beneath her skin.
“Yeah, sure,” Penny said, glancing back to where the motorcycle had disappeared. “That sounds nice.”
Emerson’s whole countenance brightened. “Yeah?”
“Yes, Emerson.” She let loose a quiet laugh. “It’d be nice to catch up, right?”
“Right.” He jerked his chin down the street. “Burgers? Steak?”
She laughed again. “How about something lighter? Jason has some good sandwiches on the menu this week. And he makes his sourdough daily.”
He dipped his head. “Sounds good to me.”
They walked side by side down the street toward the café about two blocks away.
“So, your brother is getting pretty close to River, huh?” Emerson asked.
She cut him a look out of the corner of her eye. “I suppose. He doesn’t talk to me much about his love life, though.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
Emerson’s shoulder bumped against hers, and she stepped to the side.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
He chuckled, and she tossed him a questioning glance. Emerson shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who bumped into you.”
She nodded blankly. The apology had slipped from her lips out of habit.
She was still incredibly distracted. There weren’t many people who rode motorcycles in this town. Or if there were, she hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t exactly the kind of vehicle to depend on when winter rolled around, so that meant it was only practical in the warmer months.
Not that she should care.
“Penny? You okay?”
Blinking, she glanced around, then shook her head yes.
They’d arrived at the café.
How had they managed to get here so fast without her realizing it?
Emerson placed a hand on her arm. “Are you sure you’re okay? Would you rather get something to go and I can take you home?”
His hand was large and warm, but it felt different than when Royce had stood near her outside the country club. There was no spark. Not an ounce of longing. No strange hum beneath her skin.
No connection.
“Huh,” she murmured.
“I asked if you wanted to get something to go?” Emerson asked, withdrawing his hand.
She shook her head, then she met Emerson’s eyes. “No, I’m okay.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Really? Because you seem distracted.” His voice softened, and he reached for her hand. “Losing a parent can be really hard. We all get it.”
Penny shook her head. “It’s not that. I mean, yes, it was hard to lose my dad, but it’s not…”
She flushed when curiosity returned to Emerson’s face. There was no way she was going to confess that she’d been waiting for a call from a man she’d met for all of fifteen minutes in a parking lot.
Swallowing down the mortification that confession would stir up, she glanced over to where Jason was helping another customer.
“You know what? Maybe you’re right. I think it would be best if we order something and I eat at home. It’s been a long couple of weeks.”
Emerson nodded. “Of course.”
He offered to pay even though she’d been the one to cancel after accepting his invitation. But when he said he’d get her home, she insisted she didn’t need his help. She’d driven to work, and if he could walk her to her car, that would be more than enough.
She fumbled with her keys after she watched Emerson stride away. He’d given her a hug and told her he was there to listen if she needed someone to talk to. He was incredibly sweet, but something told her he might be interested in something more.
And she simply wasn’t.
Her phone buzzed inside her bag.
Penny paused, keys halfway to the lock.
She dug through her purse and pulled out her phone, her pulse doing something entirely unreasonable when she saw the unknown number on the screen.
Unknown: I know I owe you an apology. Are you still at work?
Penny stared at the message for several seconds, torn between relief and irritation.
So he did know how to use a phone.
She typed back before she could overthink it.
Penny: Technically, no. I’m by my car outside of work.
His reply came almost immediately.
Unknown: Good timing. I’m down the street. Can I come say that apology in person?
Penny looked up.
A motorcycle rolled slowly around the corner, then eased to the curb several parking spaces away. Royce killed the engine and removed his helmet, his blue eyes finding hers with an impact she felt all the way down to her toes.
He wasn’t make-believe.
He’d come back.
Wait a gosh-darn minute.
Penny gave him a light shove before she could think better of it. “What do you think you’re doing?”
His mouth curved with far too much confidence as he held her keys out to her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, beautiful.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, snatching the keys from his hand. “You dropped off the face of the earth for two whole weeks. Not a word. Not a call. I nearly thought I imagined you.”
His smile softened, but only a little. “You were thinking about me that much?”
Penny’s eyes narrowed. “That is not what I said.”
“Sounded a little like that.”
“It sounded like I was annoyed.”
Royce took one step closer, close enough that she caught the scent of mint and wood and something warm she couldn’t quite place. But he didn’t crowd her against the car. He just looked at her with that same steady focus that had gotten under her skin the first night.
“Miss me?” he asked.
Penny let out a disbelieving laugh. “You are unbelievable.”
“That’s not a no.”
“No,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “I haven’t even thought about you.”
His brow lifted.
“Not much,” she amended, then immediately regretted it.
A low chuckle slipped from him, and the sound did entirely too much to her already fragile sense of reason.
Heat rose in her cheeks. The man had disappeared for two weeks. She should not be noticing how good he smelled or how blue his eyes were or how badly she wanted to step closer instead of back.
Reality finally knocked into her, and she lifted a hand between them, pressing lightly against his chest to make a point more than to move him. “If you think you can flirt with me, tease me, then disappear, you have another thing coming.”
“I didn’t disappear, beautiful.” His voice gentled. “I was busy.”
Her look sharpened.
He sighed, some of the arrogance easing from his face. “That came out wrong. I had work that took more of my time than I expected, but I should have called. Or texted. Something.”
“Yes,” she said. “You should have.”
“I know.” His gaze held hers. “And I’m sorry I was busy.”
That should not have disarmed her as much as it did.
“Yeah, well, whose fault was that?” She’d meant for her voice to be sharp and accusatory. But instead, it came out more disappointed than anything.
His expression shifted at that. The teasing didn’t vanish completely, but something quieter moved in behind it.
“I couldn’t just swing by your place,” he said. “I didn’t want to show up where I wasn’t invited.”
She hated that he could take the hit without arguing. It made staying irritated much harder.
Royce moved a little closer, slow enough that she could have stepped away if she wanted to. Penny didn’t. Her breath caught as his gaze dropped briefly to her mouth, then returned to her eyes.
For one wild second, she thought he might kiss her.
He didn’t.
Instead, he stopped just shy of doing something they couldn’t take back.
“We’re still going to have that perfect day, beautiful,” he said, his voice low enough to send a shiver across her skin. “If you still want it.”
Penny’s fingers tightened around her keys. “That depends.”
“On?”
“On whether you plan to disappear again.”
“I don’t.” He held her gaze. “Just give me a little more time to get things in order.”
She should have said no. She should have told him he’d already had his chance. Instead, she stood there with her heart acting foolish and her thoughts scattering in every direction.
Royce stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets as if he knew better than to push his luck. “You’ll see. It’s gonna be worth the wait. I promise.”
“You seem awfully sure of yourself.”
“Only about a few things.”
“And this is one of them?”
His smile returned, warm and confident and entirely too effective. “Definitely.”
He backed away, then turned when he reached his motorcycle and climbed on. She wanted to holler at him that motorcycles weren’t practical, but she was still too stunned to speak.
He started the engine, gave her one last look, and pulled away from the curb.
“What in the world?” she whispered to herself as he disappeared down the street.